The Park
by Yulliah
Summary: Time passed, his feelings did not. Reflecting is always the hardest but most important thing one ever does. Can this year make a difference?


**This is a short story that popped into my head and I had to write it. I think it'll have a second chapter in the future, so I'm not closing it for now.**  
**It's unbetaed, so please excuse me my mistakes.**

**The story is loosely based on the song: 'The Park' by the amazing 'Feist'.**

**Thank you KGQ for again prereading for me and for being my awesome friend!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Nor do I own 'The Park' by 'Feist'.**

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With tears threatening to leave me eyes I sat down. Another moment of self consciousness, knowing I messed up, knowing this relationship had been doomed before it even started. This time it was Seth who had left me, but I really didn't care. The ending of another year long relationship, another streak of wasted time while I tried to forget what truly mattered to me.

This park, this God forsaken park, filled with the heartbroken, the homeless and the never-ending waves of tourists, this park and the bench I was sitting on, ware both the thorn in my heart and the last bit of sanity I had left. This was the exact spot I messed up.

I wasn't speaking of messing up the last relationship I had, though it ultimately came down to the same thing. This was where I messed up with _him_. This was where I let him walk away, secretly knowing I would regret it for the rest of my life.

Even though his words told me he'd be back, his eyes told me it had been my last chance, and I had blown it. The pleading look on his face begging me to stop him still had me to my knees, had my heart aching like nothing else could.

If I even thought it would make a difference, I would've gone after him, I would go after him now. It was too late, too many years past. Even if I knew where he was, I was sure he'd moved on, probably happy with some perfect man who wasn't afraid. A guy who would wholeheartedly say that he was everything to him. A guy who could admit to loving him and shout it from every single rooftop he could find.

He deserved to be loved like that, though I wished it could've been me.

I was 17 years old when I fell in love with him. 17 years old and scared shitless of what being in love with another guy would mean. Living with my homophobic father, no money to my name and loving a boy who wasn't even likely to love me back, I pushed it away. Until he kissed me.

That kiss, as sweet and innocent as it was powerful, had brought me to tears. Hiding my sexuality when I was alone, hadn't been a problem, but I loved him and I wanted to give him everything.

He agreed to hide with me, to not tell my father or even our friends until I was free to do what I wanted. However, in the end there was always a reason to keep hiding, to keep our relationship a dirty little secret behind closed doors. I always found a reason to not have to give in and face my fears.

That day, here, sitting on this bench, he told me that he was leaving. He didn't tell me where he would go, but he promised he'd be back. He vowed that as long as he loved me, he'd come back here, to this exact spot, each year. He would wait for me until I was ready and I believed him. I was arrogant enough to think he would love me forever, that I hadn't truly lost him.

I missed him terribly from the first night he wasn't there, warming my heart and soul. The next year I sat down on this same bench and waited. For 3 hours I was sure he'd come. The next 2 hours I was worried something happened to him, nothing short of injury or death would stop him from coming back to me. Though when night fell and cold crept into my bones, I had to admit it to myself. He wasn't coming back, for he promised. As long as he loved me, and that was truly the reason I spent the entire day waiting, alone.

Missing him got worse and turned into obsession, being unable to ever really love someone else. I tried though, again and again. But each year I broke it off or made them break-up with me. For each year I found myself sitting here, waiting.

It's been five years to the day since last I saw him and the years haven't made me whole again. I might have turned into a man, but I'm half of a man without him. This city, filled with sadness, is cold. It's not just the snow covering the paths and perfectly kept lawns, it's the emptiness in my heart he left behind.

I once again gazed over the people coming and going, pushing their strollers through the thick white coverage, cycling to work or simply walking by holding hands. I searched for him without any thread of hope. I knew he wouldn't come, I knew he'd moved on. It hurt me to let that knowledge torture my desperate mind, but I was unable to stop. I let him slip through my fingers and I'll forever pay the price.

A fleck of golden light caught my eye and my heart almost jumped out of my chest. Was it him? Was it really him? Did he come? Did he still want me after all those years? Did he still love me as much as I still loved him?

I raised to my feet and took two steps toward the man who could heal me and opened my mouth to call after him.

The entire weight of my suddenly flared hope came crushing down on me, taking my breath and leaving me battered and broken. Thinking I saw him made me complete for a few seconds. The few seconds in which I was happy, only a short reprieve before realizing the complete stranger wasn't him.

I sat back on the bench, unable to hold in my tears any longer. I could feel them running wetly down my cheeks, the warmth quickly dissipating into the cold evening air.

Why would he even come back to this park? Time has past, seasons have changed and in the end the wet streaks on my face turning to shimmery layers of ice completely reflect the state of my life.

Still I waited.

It wasn't until darkness had long moved in and I heard the Big Ben chime the passing of another year in the distance, that I finally stood.

I knew he wouldn't, but the fact that he didn't come still stabbed at my very soul. I slowly stretched my knees and gave my fingers an experimental wiggle. I would need a hot bath and hours in front of the fireplace before my body would resemble anything close to a healthy temperature, though I wouldn't really be able to get warm again.

I made my way back to my lonely apartment. I was only three flights of stairs up from the apartment we had shared, unable to live there any longer, but never actually able to leave. Pathetic really, to still be so hung up on a boy I'd spent no more than 2 years with.

A boy who had undoubtedly turned into a man. A man I should've cherished, one I should've been proud of to be with. He gave me everything and I had been too selfish to realize it. Why on earth would he ever come back and claim me as his? Why would he come to me and once again try to make me see that he was the one?

He tried that already, and I never yielded. Still, I was waiting for him to come back, after all these years. Just sitting and waiting, doing nothing. He wouldn't. The truth of it was that he couldn't love me anymore, could he?

Somehow I needed to know for sure. Even if he was happy with someone else, he should've come to just tell me that, instead of keeping me waiting and wondering. The distance between us was unnerving, and it kept me from knowing the full truth. His absence just told me- What exactly did it tell me? There could be a million reasons for him not showing up. It had never been about him leaving. The problem was that I didn't stop him, that I hadn't gone after him. He gave me everything and I never gave him anything in return.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have gone on being so stupid?

I turned on my laptop and opened my browser. It had been long enough. It was time to find out if there was even the slightest chance for us left.

I moved my cursor to the google search bar and typed: Jasper Hale


End file.
